#chief winchley

[atomic-chronoscaph]

Squiddly Diddly (1965)

[sohannabarberaesque]

In conversation between Huckleberry Hound and Squiddly Diddly at a Character Convocation some while back

HUCKLEBERRY HOUND, ever the curious one: So what exactly was the trigger behind Bubbleland's demise?

SQUIDDLY DIDDLY: To put it simply, it was Chief Winchley, who founded Bubbleland to begin with and managed to keep it going until, rather suddenly, he didn't show up one morning.

HUCKLEBERRY HOUND: So what was wrong exactly?

SQUIDDLY DIDDLY: You might say his mind was going haywire, what with deferred maintenance being evident throughout the structure as housed Bubbleland, to begin with. Which the animals, yours truly included, didn't quite feel comfortable with; soon after, word was getting around urging tourists to stay away and avoid Bubbleland ... and then one day, it just suddenly closed.

HUCKLEBERRY HOUND: So what happened to Chief Winchley?

SQUIDDLY DIDDLY: He was just losing his mind to the extent of his having to go into an asylum, and rumour claimed that he was blaming me for Bubbleland's demise, single-handedly! Obviously, this was not all true, but still, it was evident that Bubbleland was in decline ... which was quick enough for me to recognise my true calling of being an underwater photographer!

HUCKLEBERRY HOUND: I do have to recognise, judging by your annuals that you put out, that your underwater photography is rather exceptional!

SQUIDDLY DIDDLY: How else could it be for an underwater denizen as is in that gray area between an outright professional and just a rank amateur?

[Laughter on the part of both]

[summer-solo-day]

35/?? Childhood TV Shows You Should Watch

Title: Squiddly Diddly

Seasons: 2

Episodes: 26

Original Air Date: October 2, 1965 - October 15, 1966

Synopsis:

Squiddly is kept captive in an aquatic park known as Bubbleland and resides in a pool with his name on it. Squiddly Diddly is an aspiring musician and entertainer who makes many attempts to escape and attain musical stardom, but he is constantly foiled by Bubbleland's administrator Chief Winchley. In some episodes, Squiddly Diddly manages to escape but chooses to return to Bubbleland after finding the outside world to be too harsh. Other times Squiddly and Chief Winchley would have to work together to solve problems in Bubbleland. The cartoons show people applauding Squiddly Diddly's musical talents but often depict terrified people who mistakenly believe that octopuses are hostile.

My Rating: 7/10

My Reasoning:

Oh, how I loved Squiddly. Something about him was just so endearing and likable. It's sad that he never actually got to be a famous musician like he wanted but you know it's a cartoon so....

Squiddly just always seemed like such a wholesome character to me. (from what I remember anyway). I must admit like with most short Hanna Barbera cartoons, it's not got a whole lot going on complexity-wise. It's got simple plot points and humor, and the characters are usually one-dimensional as with most of their cartoons. That being said, I still thoroughly enjoyed this cartoon and I think you would too.

[sohannabarberaesque]

Postcards from Snagglepuss

One dolphin swim for the sake of memory

AT AN UNDISCLOSED LOCATION SOMEWHERE IN THE BAHAMAS: Peter Potamus, freediver extraordinaire, can relate plenty of memorable tales about experiences in the uncharted reaches of Polynesia, and in a rather likable sort of way.

Especially when it comes to dolphins, and swimming along with them.

One especially memorable and yet fascinating exercise in this respect (naked, naturally, and with a wonderful-looking Polynesian native in tow, obviously) was lead-in to an especially fascinating sort of dolphin swim that the Peter Potamus Magic Divers, as well as his guests of no less than yours truly, Huckleberry Hound and the Hair Bear Bunch, fell practically head over heels for at some remote part of the Bahamas group.

And to imagine no less than 15 divers in the company of some especially playful dolphins in Bahamanian waters has certainly got to be one for stirring the senses ... after all, much has been studied and written about the sheer intellect, grace and beauty of dolphins, not to mention where many such, going back to Ancient Greece even, have had close friendships with humans such as can be especially memorable!

It just seemed as if our cetacean companions and compadres couldn't help but want to make us feel welcome in some especially fabulous, almost primeval even, coral reefs as seem untouched to the point of utterly fantastic ... especially the lupine members of our dive company, as in Loopy De Loop, Hokey Wolf and Mildew Wolf, who for some reason had an especially memorable sort of experience with dolphinkind, in particular that self-appointed "good wolf" seeking to challenge conventional stereotypes and myths about wolves, only to fail all too often!

Who could guess how Lippy the Lion and Breezly Bruin especially had been approached by certain dolphins of this pod as joined in our escapade, getting some gentle nuzzling of their necks with the dolphins' beaks, and feeling rather delighted, perhaps to the point of hearing slight giggles underwater as dolphin affection became all the more obvious with our dive crew?

But leave it, more or less, to Squiddly Diddly, our videographer in these exploits, to as much capture the awe and fascination of wild dolphins crossing paths with us divers as relate sheer contrast to how Bubbleland treated its dolphins back in the day ("Nothing less than objects of show, doing much the same hokey drills for what passed as 'performances' to amuse the visitors from Iowa! And just faking their delight and satisfaction; still, though, it may have been more or less the times when I was at Bubbleland under Chief Winchley explaining such thought towards dolphins...."). Still, you have to hand it to Squiddly to sense what real interaction unto a real dolphin in the wild waters of the Caribbean must be like ... and it must have felt like love, come to think of it!

The very sight even amazing the Hair Bear Bunch, come to think of it!

Still, a great experience was had by all ... and just a heads up: For the sake of the Christmas holiday, there will be no postcard next Monday, which happens to be Christmas Day this year. But look for one next week instead at this time.

*************

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[sohannabarberaesque]

Squiddly Diddly headcannon

Imagine what exactly Chief Winchley's intentions were at Bubbleland for Squiddly Diddly to begin with, particularly in the performance arena alongside killer whales and dolphins; was it any wonder that he was prone to escaping into The Outside every so often?

[sohannabarberaesque]

Postcards from Snagglepuss

And so the journey continues

The scene: A parking lot off the junction of Ocean Parkway (Maryland 528) and US 50 in Ocean City, Maryland. Huckleberry Hound is taking roll:

"Yogi Bear--?"

"Smarter than the average ..."

"Boo-Boo--?"

"Here!"

"Magilla Gorilla--?"

"Wouldn't you know it--I made it at last!"

"I'll take it as 'present.' Wally Gator--?"

"Present and accounted for, don't you know!"

[Wally's Ed Wynnesque style certainly brought giggles to our party.]

"Squiddly Diddly--?"

"HERE!!" (And giving a salute not unlike that he was fond of giving Chief Winchley back at Bubbleland, mainly for comedic effect, as he would later explain.)

Yours truly: "Now mind you, you're part of what's bound to be a rotating cast for some road trip adventures--or should they be 'misadventures'?!--which are bound to be fascinating in and of themselves."

Huck: "And our vehicle of choice will be this fabulous-looking motorhome--!"

At any rate, opening the door, our intrepid travellers--argonauts, even!--prepare to get things ready and squared away, even finding what will amount to their beds all along the way. Which, in Wally Gator's case, will have to consider his tail and the habit of sleeping on his belly ... and for Squiddly Diddly, having to find a decent tank for which water could be kept to keep him pacified. (Huck and I will, inevitably, "ride shotgun" up front and guide things along the way, swapping turns driving. Hopefully kept alert with some decent coffee, let alone caffeine tablets, No-Doz even, if nighttime driving especially is required.)

"Yet," Boo-Boo was quick to quip, "I have to wonder how the ranger's gonna like our company as it is."

To which Yogi responded, "Fret not, Boo-Boo buddy!"

Trying not to keep things constrained with so much pre-departure folderol which many families heading into a road trip seem to relish, our motley company is settled in and ... off we go occidentally on US 50 as it begins its journey of 3,073 miles (that's 4,948 kilometres, if you prefer it that way) towards Sacramento, California!

But whence will we be heading next? Stay tuned to this channel, fellow Hanna-Barberians!

*************

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[sohannabarberaesque]

Upon seeing this, who could picture Squiddly Diddly playing the old squeezebox (and a reechy-sounding one, besides) at some San Pedro dive bar on Saturday nights, with Chief Winchley unaware of the exercise?

[sohannabarberaesque]

Postcards from Snagglepuss

In a sample room somewhere along the Ocean City Boardwalk

Huckleberry Hound opened this session: "If I may just explain why we're all here ..."

(Those present, besides Huck and yours truly, were Yogi Bear, Boo-Boo and Cindy ... Magilla Gorilla ... Squiddly Diddly ... and Wally Gator.)

To moi: "Having been something of a vagabond for some time now, the idea came about of having a close compadre of mine, as in Huckleberrry Hound, be more or less the co-leader ... and to move things around."

Which had Magilla asking, "You mean, like on a motorhome?"

Huck responded, "You are so correct."

Moi again: "We thought it interesting to take our vagabonding to a new and exciting level by going the motorhome route." Which had Yogi Bear rhapsodising "Well, that certainly beats Jellystone Park, believe you me ... and imagine, at least Ranger Smith isn't much of a pain-in-the-butt!"

(Laughter all around)

Boo-Boo, Yogi's ever-impatient ursine buddy, chimed in: "I do have to acknowledge that Yogi can sometimes get a little ahead of himself, and can be a little silly on occasion." To which Cindy, the romantic interest of Yogi especially (and wearing a low-cut dress as well), added, "I think I'm going to like Yogi a little more from here on out!"

"So where exactly is it that we're heading, as if I had to shoot my big mouth off?" was what Wally Gator asked.

"We are heading out west" was how Huck parsed it.

Added I, "On a mystery tour, you might say."

Squiddly Diddly chimed in with "At least it doesn't involve Bubbleland!"

"Uh, I thought Bubbleland was closed," Huck remarked.

"True," Squiddly Diddly replied, "but the whole is bound to be rather interesting, especially absent Chief Winchley!"

"And, in my own case," Wally Gator added, "Zookeeper Twiddle, don't you know!"

Not long afterward, but not before quite the dinner of Delmarva fried chicken (which is more or less rolled in cracker crumbs, as opposed to that Colonel Sanders schtick of being floured), our crew, with Huck and myself leading the way--and with many startled tourists gawking at us in transit to a municipal parking lot not far from the Boardwalk along Coastal Boulevard--walked over to what would be our mobile bivouac from here on out.

"Now, mind you," Huck remarked as our crew was gathered outside, "you're only joining us for a few weeks. The objective we have in mind is that we plan to have a changing cast of characters, as it were, with the seasons."

"Which," I added, "at any rate, could mean something rather fascinating for what could amount to a quasi-documentary with elements of Survivor, Big Brother even ... but without the vote offs. Yet before long, heading into the summer, many of you will be replaced with some new characters joining the experience."

"Which, I assume," Yogi Bear remarked, "will see us heading back to Jellystone Park just as the summer tourists come along!"

"That's an interesting point of putting it," I remarked. And so, opening the doors to the motorhome, though it took some time settling in, and explaining the amenities to be had (including some old-school card and board games) ... and making our way through what passed for the early-season traffic on Coastal Boulevard, then westward along US 50 as it makes its way for all of 3.073 miles to Sacramento.

Which, for those fond of alternate units of measure, is 4,945 kilometres ... 1,024 leagues ... 2,827 Roman miles ... I guess you get the idea. But from here on out, try and guess where we're heading next!

*************

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[sohannabarberaesque]

Have zoos somehow become overrated?

Witness my fondness for imagining the likes of Zookeeper Twiddle from Wally Gator, Chief Winchley from Squiddly Diddly and Zookeepers Lionel Botch and Eustis Peevly from Help! ... It's The Hair Bear Bunch! having seriously lost their minds to the extent of the zoo in question going downhill in terms of deferred maintenance ensuing and as much the properties having to close as the zookeepers themselves having to enter sanatoriae, their minds being so far gone from Reality.

In some indirect way seeing the relevant characters become free and more themselves, more spirited even, as per Snagglepuss' parsing it.

[sohannabarberaesque]

On Peter Potamus' rather special diving atoll somewhere in Polynesia Uncharted

[Mise en scene: Squiddly Diddly and Peter Potamus are lying in hammocks set in the shallows of said atoll where the former is spending a few days as Peter's guest on a diving holiday.]

SQUIDDLY DIDDLY: Peter, did I ever tell you about that time when I landed on a remote Polynesian island, to be mistaken as a volcano god by the natives while Chief Winchley was almost made into stew?

PETER POTAMUS: Let me guess who this Chief Winchley was ... he ran Bubbleland, right?

SQUIDDLY DIDDLY: Correct, my diving friend!

PETER POTAMUS: A couple times, at least ... meanwhile, have I ever told you about the time where, also in remotest Polynesia, yours truly was actually mistaken for a native hippo god when we crash landed the balloon during the natives' annual worship of said god?

SQUIDDLY DIDDLY: No doubt you have such stories worth relating as part of our diving get-togethers! [Sensing a mildish sort of breeze coming off the Pacific] Ahhhhh ... doesn't it feel relaxing just to spend a few days with you in diving such an atoll as this?

PETER POTAMUS, exuberantly: Well, I SHOULD SAY SO!! [Aside] Uh, by the way, Squiddly ... have you ever experienced swimming with a dolphin in open water?

SQUIDDLY DIDDLY: I certainly have, Peter ... and have related much in the Squiddly's Underwater Annual in the past!! Can you ever sense the sheer fascination of being close to such wonderfully intelligent and sexually candid denizens of the deep by means other than diving?

PETER POTAMUS: Given my experiences galore in Polynesia Uncharted, and my time with such wonderfully naked and unafraid natives, such is probably the best way I know to appreciate such fascinating creatures ... whaddya say we get to some swimming among dolphins?

SQUIDDLY DIDDLY: You are certainly on my wavelength!!

[And just imagine what such a dolphin swim must be like--which is your department, dear and gentle reader.]

*************

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[sohannabarberaesque]

At a diver's bar somewhere in Islamorada, Florida

MAGILLA GORILLA, going through his bowl of conch stew: You know something, Peter?

PETER POTAMUS, who basically arranged this tete-a-tete: What did you have in mind, Magilla?

MAGILLA GORILLA: For the rather decent conch stew they serve here, I have to admit that I couldn't have found a more interesting sideline than diving!

PETER POTAMUS: And it's rather interesting that I enjoy diving myself ... not to mention finding some equally interesting character types along for the dive, so to speak!

MAGILLA GORILLA: Which at least beats wasting time in the front window of Peebles' Pet Shop watching TV or otherwise listening to shortwave radio at its most incredible ...

PETER POTAMUS: Magilla ... if there's one thing our being together as divers means, it's showing the world that SCUBA can play quite the part in building friendships. And credit such exceptional camera work from Squiddly Diddly underwater for proving such a premise ... even if, I have to acknowledge, Squiddly's mastery of underwater photography was self-taught, by and large, coming at him from scratch, you might say, after Bubbleland closed oh so suddenly!

MAGILLA GORILLA: Uh, what was this Bubbleland?

PETER POTAMUS: Not unlike the Miami Seaquarium or SeaWorld, you might say ... but closed rather suddenly after Chief Winchley, its founder, somehow lost his mind and things began collapsing left and right. Which was not very good for anybody there, not even Squiddly--who, more than anything, amounted to more of a novelty act!

MAGILLA GORILLA: Even in the face of dolphins and killer whales being stars of the show, so to speak?

PETER POTAMUS: Well ... you can say that, in a way. (Pause) Come to think of it, perhaps we might want to ask Squiddly to relate his take on Bubbleland's Decline and Fall, so to speak, some evening ahead of a diving session!

MAGILLA GORILLA: I certainly hope he has plenty to say there!

PETER POTAMUS: (Chuckling) Say, Magilla--have you ever seen some of Squiddly's underwater photography? I have to admit he's something of a whiz in this respect!

MAGILLA GORILLA: I admit having seen a few of his photos and watching much of his footage as well ...

PETER POTAMUS: Glad we could have this talk ...

[sohannabarberaesque]

Once more, amongst the World-Renowned and Far-Famed Ten Thousand Lakes of Minnesota--

(Mise en scene, as before: Somewhere in the shallows of said lake, during a filming break in "Underwater America with Peter Potamus" giving the diving party some time to refresh dive basics and safety procedures. This time, we find Squiddly Diddly, underwater photographer extraordinaire, alongside Peter Potamus sitting in an Adirondack chair posited in the shallows as sunset approaches.)

PETER POTAMUS, out of curiosity: Squiddly, just interested in knowing what brought about the demise of Bubbleland...

SQUIDDLY DIDDLY: First off, I should explain that I was not entirely to blame for causing the downfall of Bubbleland such as led to its closing.

PETER POTAMUS: I can understand that, Squiddly.

SQUIDDLY DIDDLY: In fact, you might say it was largely Chief Winchley as brought down Bubbleland.

PETER POTAMUS, incredulous at this revelation: You mean--?

SQUIDDLY DIDDLY: While it may have been my antics as brought its fair share of press attention to Bubbleland, the reality was that Chief Winchley was losing his mind all the more, practically letting Bubbleland go downhill!

PETER POTAMUS: And yet the tourists were still coming?

SQUIDDLY DIDDLY: Make no mistake about it ... and even then, they couldn't notice right offhand where Bubbleland was on the skids. It was just going down to the sea so fast, you might say--

PETER POTAMUS, interjecting: --that it was certain to crash into the sea any day!

SQUIDDLY DIDDLY: And the crash came, you might say, when Chief Winchley didn't show up one morning at the usual time, about an hour and a half before park opening ... it emerged that he had to be taken to hospital all of a sudden in a delirium about Bubbleland's state. Rumour had it that my name was mentioned in Chief Winchley's otherwise incoherent rantings in the ambulance en route, before sedatives were administered.

PETER POTAMUS: So how long exactly did it ensue before Bubbleland closed its gates and released its creatures, as it were?

SQUIDDLY DIDDLY: Barely two weeks at the most ... and when the closing came, it was a sudden shock to all of us, me especially. So where else had we to go other than the wilds of the Pacific, with the risk of rejection among the wilder specimens? At any rate, yours truly was given some compensation for the trouble, which allowed me to get into underwater photography--something of a passion I had long imagined going into!

PETER POTAMUS: Which explains the Nikonos underwater camera you always enjoy carrying....

SQUIDDLY DIDDLY: However did you guess that? (Chuckling)

PETER POTAMUS: Which would naturally evolve into contacts with yours truly--

SQUIDDLY DIDDLY: --and picking up on underwater cinematography, explaining my presence as the underwater cameraman on this series!

PETER POTAMUS: For which you deserve some serious commendation, make no mistake about it!

SQUIDDLY DIDDLY: At any rate ... let's head over to my cabin in a little bit and look at some examples of my underwater photography, good, bad and indifferent!

PETER POTAMUS, chuckling: Not a bad idea ... especially where you said "good, bad and indifferent" just now there....

[sohannabarberaesque]

Hardly a serious replication of the performance stage at Bubbleland back in its zenith, especially with Squiddly Diddly seeking to “steal the show” to the chagrin of Chief Winchley.

[sohannabarberaesque]

Moth Mondays with the Funtastic World of Hanna-Barbera: Squiddly Diddly "himself"

Not an easy one to describe categorically, but on the other hand, there's bound to be times when the decline and imminent fall of Bubbleland prompts opportunities for misadventures hilarious galore. Witness:

So what exactly are you reduced to when the marine-life park you reside in is essentially "going down the tubes" big time and your status in the face of an imminent closing and sale of the land is equally uncertain?

Myself ... I happen to be creative in taking my share of the madcap side of underwater in the open waters--at least close to shore. Take, for example, one time not too long back (perhaps it was a month and a half ago) where the illness of Chief Winchley (otherwise known as my supervisor) was getting rather prolonged to the point where attendance at Bubbleland was likely to take a serious hit based solely on whispers and rumours, even leading some to spread the story that Bubbleland had closed or was close to it. Which was enough to have yours truly partner, in a way, with a certain Monterey Jill, a resident sea otter at Bubbleland I've taken something of an attachment to, in some near-shore underwater discovery.

Discovery, mind you, being close to a certain Redondo Beach at a spot known once as Moonstone Beach, called that because, at one time, a lot of moonstones and other quasi-precious gemstones washed up on the sands, ready for visitors to pick up and take as souvenirs. No wonder the old Balloon Route Trolley Excursions of Southern California made a stop at Moonstone Beach for that purpose ... only in our case, such was going to be underwater, barely a quarter mile from shore.

Now, otters do happen to have some pretty resilient claws which are capable of opening clamshells, oysters and abalone ... but as for digging the sand bottom of a nearshore section of Moonstone Beach, hoping one could still extract such gems in what's otherwise a semi-popular surf break--now THAT was something of a try! (I delegated the digging to Monterey Jill because of her claws, whereas I have mere tentacles that aren't quite up to the task.) Still, it was rather early morning, the waters were still rather dank and you had the marine layer making things a little crazy ... and yet I wonder how Monterey Jill was able to discern the likelihood of possible bits of moonstone and similar in the ocean sands off what used to be Moonstone Beach, just like they can find seafood for their meals and open the clam shells rather deftly besides.

And under such conditions, to boot. Let alone the chilly waters of the pre-dawn, especially before what surfers call "the dawn patrol" begin hitting the waves.

I have heard a few Native American creation legends which involve otters and beavers digging at the bottom of a lake to find enough earth which would then evolve into Earth the planet ... but boy, just give her some time and an inate skill at detecting moonstone and suchlike, and she's stirring up the bottom like crazy, eventually hitting a couple of choice specimens rather suddenly. Considering my frame and everything, mind you, we agreed to collect only a couple pieces so as not to cause serious problems swimming with the incoming tide and carrying such rare oceanic gems besides. (For comparison, they were about the size of "big ring" marbles.)

And you wonder, considering the possible rarity of such thanks to all the moonstone picked up from Moonstone Beach well into the World War I period and taken as souvenirs back to Iowa, say, once the tourists headed back, such would seriously have value fashioned into kitschy jewellry. Especially if the value were enough to at least keep Bubbleland open.

Or maybe not, in which case I could set up a modest diving school off K-38 in Baja....

"... and that's the story from The Moth"

(The preceding is an independent fanfic feature having no official connexion or association with The Moth. For more information, please to visit their website ... and tune in to The Moth Radio Hour weekends on your local public radio station; check your local radio listings for the day and time.)

[sohannabarberaesque]

From one of those Surprise Shortwave Worldcasts of Honey and Sis, this time an interview with Squiddly Diddly

[In which the topic at hand is the latest edition of Squiddly's Underwater Annual, a somewhat bemusing privately-circulated collation of underwater photography and lore, with contributions from the Catalina Diving Clowder and Peter Potamus as much as from some underwater-photography friends of Squiddly Diddly, himself also something of an underwater photog]

SIS, rather fascinated at the prospect: So what exactly was it, Squiddly, that sent you into underwater photography to begin with?

SQUIDDLY DIDDLY: For some months after Chief Winchley began losing his mind, Bubbleland was basically "going to seed," as it were, and suddenly closed one day without warning of any kind. Which pretty much left me without any sort of home, but with some savings as were enough to buy me from a pawn shop a second-hand underwater photography camera--a Nikonos, to be exact, the first such camera to have its own built-in underwater housing!

HONEY: And how exactly did you teach yourself underwater photography, did you have some sort of a mentor to help you along?

SQUIDDLY DIDDLY: I admit being self-taught in a way, just working my way along to try and get it right ... and eventually, Peter Potamus, with whom I did some underwater camera work with on "Underwater America with Peter Potamus"--

HONEY: I do believe we've seen the show every now and then.

SIS: Your production work is VERY impressive there, I have to say!

SQUIDDLY DIDDLY, continuing: --Peter Potamus, at any rate, began advising and mentoring me, even helping me enter my first underwater photography salon a few months later. And was I impressed when my work actually took home Best of Salon--which, for an amateur like myself, amounted to something of a lucky break!

SIS: So what would you attribute a good underwater photograph to?

SQUIDDLY DIDDLY: For one who's in that proverbial grey area between rank amateur and outright professional, I would have to say just whatever catches my fascination underwater makes for a good underwater photograph.

HONEY: I understand your friends at the Catalina Diving Clowder usually have a section in your annuals to their diving exploits off The Magic Isle; we'd like to know how that came about.

SQUIDDLY DIDDLY: Me and a couple of friends were on Catalina some years back, and a couple felines in the Catalina Diving Clowder, introducing themselves as "Bubbles," their leader, and Jessamaine, a rather flighty one herself, came across me in a diver's bar in Avalon. Both acknowledged they found my underwater photographs rather fascinating, and wondered if maybe they could have some photography done of them on a diving journey of theirs in the waters off Catalina ... and it was at perhaps their single favourite dive spot, Isthmus Cove over at Two Harbors on the west side of Catalina. And what better locale than that--remarkably clear waters, fascinating rock reefs, a modest little kelp forest and the remnants of a Chinese junk as sank during an early motion-picture shoot in that area?

SIS: And I assume the diving moves of those cats were rather remarkable.

SQUIDDLY DIDDLY: And were they--!!! In time, such reached a point where the Clowder, a group of feline queens having a crash pad on the hill above Avalon Bay where they welcome fellow divers on diving misadventures and hijinks galore, would have their own special section in my Underwater Annuals.

HONEY: Is that particular section especially popular?

SQUIDDLY DIDDLY: Judging by the response I get from such who I send copies of the Annual to, many just cannot help but be fascinated at how the Clowder sees the underwater side of Catalina Island.

SIS: With awe and fascination.

SQUIDDLY DIDDLY: However did you guess?

SIS: We have some of your past Annuals ... and cannot wait to see your latest such.

SQUIDDLY DIDDLY: Which I will gladly present unto you know ...

[sohannabarberaesque]

And you have to wonder if the concrete ship at Seacliff Beach (now a state park near Santa Cruz, California) behind these adverts must have been the indirect inspiration for Bubbleland, the marine-park milieu of Squiddly Diddly and his rival, Chief Winchley.

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